


YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL

by Lusciousinpain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Feelings, Fluff, M/M, blossoming love, pretty lights, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 12:16:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lusciousinpain/pseuds/Lusciousinpain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the boisterous laughter between the brothers that Castiel is focusing on. It’s the bright rays of multi-colored light that Dean's soul seems to be emitting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL

**Author's Note:**

> What if Cas and Dean's bond grew stronger while in Purgatory? What if their connection, allowed Castiel to be more intimate with the hunter? What if Dean wants this too?
> 
> This was mostly written before ep 8x17. I still wanted to go ahead with it even tho canon is laced with so much angst. I needed this fluff even more.

It's not the boisterous laughter between the brothers that Castiel is focusing on. It’s the bright rays of multi-colored light that Dean's soul seems to be emitting. Its beams swirling gently around his sitting form, like an aura, casting him in divinity. The lights ebb and flow along with the hunter’s laughter. Castiel doesn't understand why, but he finds himself wanting to laugh along with them too, not because of whatever it is that has Sam and Dean so amused, but because he feels good, happy even. He relaxes and let's himself enjoy the pulsing waves of untarnished joy that seem to be reaching out towards him in the form of Dean's inner light, and only vaguely listens to their banter. 

"You did what?" Sam chokes out, doubling over with laughter. 

"I...I," Dean barely manages. He wipes away tears with one hand, and demonstrates with the other exactly what it is that has his younger brother on the verge of wetting himself.

"No way, man. Dean, you are one obscene and juvenile degenerate!" Sam exclaims, but reaches over to fist pump his brother anyway.

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" Dean wheezes, trying to get himself under control. "She asked me to teach her how to drive a stick shift, and since Baby's automatic, I figured, one stick's as good as another, right? So I taught her the old fashioned way." He adds, letting out another roar of laughter. "Dude, you shoulda seen what a quick learner this chick was. Definitely an A+ student." he says, slapping his knee and throwing his head back, barking with laughter.

"Ew, Dean, gross. Okay, I'll admit it, you may be a genius at improvising, but you’re still, gross." Sam says, large grin and sparkling eyes proving that he's not as disgusted by his brother's story as he claims.

"Right you may be there, Sammy. However, answer me this, who got laid last night by one very enthusiastic waitress, and who stayed in watching soaps and doing needle point?"

"Don't be a dick, Dean. I was doing research that needed doing." Sam protests. "As a matter of fact, it was research you were supposed to be looking into for this new case, remember?" he glares at his brother, crosses his massive arms over his chest, pouts, and has his brows so far up his forehead, that they disappear under his too long bangs.

"Alright, alright." Dean raises his arms up in defense. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, Sammy. I had full confidence you'd get the work done, bro. No harm done, all’s well that ends well, and all that happy crappy, right?" he says grinning wildly.

"Yeah okay, whatever Dean." Sam shakes his head smiling, knowing that nothing he says or does can ruin his brother's current good mood.

During this entire exchange, Castiel, who's been captivated, not by Dean's story, but by the bright swirls of multi colored light, shakes himself out of his trance to ask what exactly it was that Dean taught the waitress, and, as a result, brought him so much joy.

"Dean, I still don't understand how you taught the waitress to drive with a stick shift if you didn't have a car with which to demonstrate?" he asks seriously but unable to control the wide grin that breaks across his face.

Both hunters look over at the grinning angel who's been listening quietly from his position on the other side of their motel room, and burst out in renewed gales of laughter. 

…

"What do you mean Garth's contact bailed on us?" Dean snaps at his brother. "What the hell are we supposed to do now? Hm? Ask the demon politely to give us back the talisman?" He says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or maybe, maybe we can ask him over for a slumber party? Paint each other’s nails; braid each other’s hair-"

"Real funny Dean. Very mature. You done yet?" Sam scowls in return.

"Oh, I'm far from done, Sam. I'm just getting warmed up here." Dean continues his tirade, working himself up, pacing the length of their room, waving his arms around. "Let's see. I know! When we're done with our hair, we can ask this sonofabitch to groom Cas' wings. You'd like that, right Cas? Ah...Cas, hello, you still with us?" Dean asks and turns his focus on the angel's rapt concentrated look.

Castiel's clear blue eyes are wide and darting above Dean's head, seemingly chasing something invisible to the brothers, before finally settling his gaze on Dean.

Castiel can't explain why he suddenly feels anxious and upset. He’s having trouble concentrating on the hunter’s question because of the conflicting moods that are ricocheting through his system. “Sorry Dean, I was distracted“ he finally replies.

"What, am I boring you here? Catching this dick isn’t interesting enough of a hunt for you?" Dean snaps at the angel while mists of black thunderclouds form over his head. 

"No, of course it is. I..." Castiel hesitates, unable to explain why he wasn't paying attention to the hunter's rant, since he's not sure of the reasons either. He does realize however, that the black smoke-like tendrils that are rapidly weaving a web around Dean, which at first were mysterious, are now alarming. He loses his footing, suddenly feeling faint, weakened. He staggers and braces himself against the wall. 

"Cas!" Sam yells, rushing towards the angel, and grabbing him by the shoulders to steady him.

"I'm ok, Sam. I'm fine, really. Thank you." He nods and offers a small smile in the hopes that it will ease the worry from Sam's eyes and the tension from his body. 

"Whoa, Cas. You okay, buddy? You know we're here for you, right?" Now Dean too is standing next to Castiel. His eyes full of concern, and his voice low and soothing. He wraps his arm around Castiel's waist, locking his eyes to the angel's, trying to convey with them how sorry he is for acting like such a prick. 

Castiel's eyes widen as the black cloud that has been growing like a thunderstorm around Dean's body starts to dissipate.

No, not dissipate. It's still there. But it changes instead in hue and clarity, and continues weaving itself around Dean like an embrace.

The aura is a prism of yellows, blues, and greens this time. Mesmerizing, beautiful, but also giving off waves of melancholia that are starting to suffocate Castiel in the same way he's sure Dean must be experiencing. Castiel feels his power wane. He knows what the hunter is feeling, literally. Regret, worry, shame, fear, and hope. It's the hunter's soul, no, his grace, that us desperately trying to communicate this information to him. Of course, it's the bit of himself that he bonded to Dean's soul when he rebuilt him. It's meant to always be with Dean to protect and defend him from his memories of hell. But now, it’s manifesting itself to Castiel, communicating with him the current condition of his charge. Showing him, explicitly, how he could best relate and work with this man whose behavior has always been frustrating and confusing to him.

"C'mere Cas." Dean leads the angel towards one of the beds. He sits him down and hands him a glass of water that Sam has brought over. "Drink this slowly, okay." The tremor in his voice, giving away how worried he is for his friend.

Even though he doesn't need it, not really, Castiel takes the water, drinks it all down, and thanks Sam again. He turns to look at Dean, unable not to, and listens to what Dean’s aura is now telling him. He's staring, in awe to the ravishing beauty of Dean's grace, because it is now truly Dean's, and starts to get lost in its hypnotic undulations, when the warm weight of Dean's hand on the side of his face snaps him out of his stupor.

"Ah, hey their Cas, feeling any better? You look a little pale, man. Then again, kinda hard to tell if it’s 'cause you're not well, or because you didn't get out enough to the beach this summer." Dean, now sitting next to Castiel, says this quietly near the angel’s ear. He runs his thumb across the angel's ever present stubble, hoping that his attempt at humor will liven the mood and relax Castiel enough so that he could tell them, honestly, if he really is better. Or, as the brothers fear, confess that he's still not fully charged and suffering the side effects of being in Purgatory for a year. “Come on man, you know you can tell us anything, right?”

Castiel tries to answer, but the words die in his mouth when he sees the tendrils of Dean's grace winding their way from the hunter's arm towards his face. Both he and Dean gasp the moment their graces mingle. The electric current that shoots through them both, making their bond an even deeper one, is palpable.

Dean drops his hand from Castiel's face after what feels like hours, days, years. He stands up, not taking his eyes off the angel, and swallows audibly. 

“Cas, what, what was that? Did you just mojo me or something?” 

"Dean, I did not mojo you. Please don't worry, everything's fine. I’m fine.” Castiel answers, glad to have his voice back. But Dean is worried, greatly, from what the colors are now broadcasting. They've morphed into an orb that is slowly but surely trying to completely swallow the hunter's body. The colors, all blues and grays now, make Castiel's heart sink. Dean is confused and scared with feelings of sadness and helplessness pushing their way to the forefront. Castiel feels his powers draining away quickly. 

This will not do. He's certain that there must be a way to reverse this downward spiral. He needs to stop this and act fast before both he and Dean are lost to its throbbing misery. 

How though? If Dean's grace pulses with anger, uncertainty, sadness, or regret, when faced with conflict, then certainly, if confronted with something joyous or satisfactory, the effect will be the opposite. He thinks back to when he last felt strong and whole. It was the night Dean told them how he taught his latest conquest to drive a car with a manual gearshift mechanism instead of an automatic. He remembers how strong, potent his powers had been, and how happy he had felt as Dean recounted his story, and how he and his brother had laughed with him, or was it at him? He wasn't sure then and he doesn't care now. He is sure, however, that only humor and laughter will stop the ever-increasing grey mist from completely engrossing Dean, and subsequently re-boosting his waning powers. 

"Yeah, guess it was nothing.” Dean shrugs. “But, I don't know, Cas, I gotta be honest with you man, you look far from fine." he says sadly, his voice wavering. 

With gargantuan effort, Castiel swallows down his own hurt, pulling on his weakened grace for added strength, and decides that his only option, for the moment, is to try to calm their fears with a positive explanation for his current state and a humorous anecdote, a joke. 

"Sam, Dean, I appreciate your concern, but please believe me when I say to you that even though my powers are not currently at full capacity, it isn’t because some freaking assbutt might be trying to sabotage our working relationship. Heh," he snorts, "But simply because I have cut myself off from the host." The brothers stare at Castiel, tight lipped, and frowning in unison. Castiel realizes that instead of calming their fears, he has in fact, stoked them. He hurries to add, "That being said, ah, I will have moments of lethargy. Get a little tipsy maybe, like I did that time when I drank that liquor store, good times, right?" Dean and Sam look at each other, not sure why they're grinning, and then back at their friend as he continues rambling. "And, as I become accustomed to my new condition, I will learn to have better control over my remaining grace, even if it means going back to school and taking Grace 101 for a semester, heh-heh. Ah, however, if at any point I feel remotely alarmed, I would not hesitate to come to either of you for help. You are my friends, go Team Free Will," Castiel says this raising his arms up over his head, and letting out a loud whoop, startling the boys, but clearly distracting them from their worries. “And I know that you would not stop until we find a way to fix whatever problem I may be experiencing."

He offers them a wide grin, all teeth and crinkled nose, trying to project as much honesty and confidence as he can muster, given the current ache in his heart. However, he immediately notices, that the ache is no longer there. He focuses his gaze on Dean and is glad to see that the grayness of his mood replaced with a warm orange glow. Dean looks beatific. It's as if he has been bathed in the glow of a sunset.

"That's great Castiel." Sam replies with a shy smile. 

"Ah, yeah, Cas." Dean says, trying to process the meaning behind Castiel's words. He's glad that the angel finally understands how important he is to them as a friend and as a member of Team Free Will. But, he's even more relieved that Castiel has finally stopped believing that the only reason they need him is to use as a tool to wield against the bad guys. Dean wonders where the angel would have picked up such an inferiority complex in the first place. Hmph, who's he kidding? The angel learned that from his course in 'How to be a Winchester 101'. He decides that he'll try to be more supportive and less of a dick to Castiel in the future. But, it won't be easy, Castiel has already gotten the Winchester-complex down pat, he muses and grins not taking his eyes off Castiel's trying to decipher what's really behind those baby-blues. 

Sam clears his throat loudly, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that descended as soon as his brother and the angel locked eyes and engaged in one of their epic staring contests. 

Dean and Castiel, both sporting pink cheeks and matching grins, break eye contact and turn to look at Sam. 

Dean coughs into his fist and asks, “What, dude?" He then sits back down on the bed and unconsciously leans his body closer to the angel's. 

Sam, seeing Dean's unmistakable body language, says, "Guess, I'll go out to the library and read up on our target, then." He grabs his jacket and keys and turns towards the motel room’s door. 

"What, your computer on the fritz?" Dean asks wearing a scowl, effectively stopping his brother in his tracks. Castiel notices, however, that even though Dean looks and acts upset, the colors spiraling around him are perfectly pleasant to behold. If anything, the sparks that start shooting out from them can only mean that the hunter is excited, in a good way. 

"No, my computer is fine. The stuff I'm going to look up is only available on hard copy. No big deal, okay Dean.” Sam, nodding towards Castiel, adds, “You stay here and look after Cas for a while. Until he’s back on his feet.”

“Sam, I’m perfectly capable-“ 

“Sam’s right, Cas.” Dean interrupts, looking over at the angel with a stern and determined look on his face. “We’ll stay here and order some pizza, watch a movie, take it easy for the night. Sammy’ll be okay geeking out all by himself in the library tonight.”

Dean pats Castiel’s thigh for emphasis but instead gets another electric shock that courses straight through his system and settles right into his cock. He turns to look at Castiel, holding onto his thigh with a vice like grip, and licks his lips. 

“Okay, right. Um, afterwards, I think I'll go get some food. So, I’ll be back late." If at all tonight after what I just saw, Sam thinks. "Maybe in the morning we can put our heads together and come up with an alternate plan on how to capture the talisman. Sound good, guys?"

Dean is a kaleidoscope of pinks and reds. He tears his eyes away from Castiel's just long enough to grunt a goodbye to his brother. 

"'Kay then, ah, have a good night and don't wait up." Sam shakes his head grinning, knowing that as far as Dean and Castiel are concerned, he's already gone and they're the only ones in the room. He takes one last look at the hopeless pair, raking his fingers through his too long hair, and closes the door.

...

Dean is the first to speak. He's not sure of what he's feeling. But knows that the first order of business, now that Sam has left (he turns to make sure that his brother has gone and that they are indeed alone) is to apologize properly to Castiel. He means to be a better friend, or at least a better whateveritis with the angel. My angel. My friend. My partner. It's what he wants. It dawns on him then that, yes, what he truly wants is for Castiel to be his. His love, even. Not that he would ever admit to it, though, even if he were back in hell being tortured on Alastair's rack. 

Dean takes a deep shaky breath and says, "Cas, tell me you felt it that time.”

"Yes, Dean, I felt it." Castiel replies, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips barely inches from Dean’s. He feels lightheaded from their connection. He rests his head on Dean's shoulder. He feels how Dean's grace intertwining with his is boosting his power by a 1000 fold. He's giddy, wanting only to wrap Dean in his wings and fly away.

After a moment, he feels Dean's hand cradling his jaw, lifting his face by his chin, and then he feels soft warm lips on his. 

"Why did you do that?" Castiel asks.

"'Cause, if just touching your thigh makes me feel like my insides are on fire, then I hadda find out what kissing you would do to me." Dean states boldly. He’s thrown caution to the wind. His instincts are telling him that the angel wants this too. And his instincts are never wrong. Well, mostly.

They stare at each other a moment longer, and then lunge. Hands grabbing shoulders, waists. Fists pulling hair, tearing shirts. Fingers digging into soft flesh, bruising tender skin. Their mouths open and hungry. Kisses wet and desperate. 

"Cas, what the...” Dean pants. His question turns into a heavy sigh that he exhales into Castiel's eager mouth. 

"Dean" Castiel growls in return, his voice a low rumble. He grabs the short hairs at the base of Dean's neck, gaining better access to his pulse point, and proceeds to suck a dark bruise there.

"I, I feel like I'm burning, Cas." Dean pulls away long enough to see if the angel has heard him and if he too is feeling the same heat. "What's happening here? Why do I feel like my insides are trying to climb outta me, and into you?" He looks up, trying to find the right words. "Like I can't get close enough." Dean implores, gazing back into Castiel's lust blown eyes, and dipping his head to give the angel's plump bottom lip a playful bite.

"Hmph," Castiel smiles and retaliates for the bite by giving Dean a deep and dirty kiss. He pulls back and grins. "Dean, it's my grace. Or rather, your grace, because it belongs to you now." Kiss. "However..." Kiss. "It seems...," Kiss. "To want to join again..." Kiss. "With its former master." Kiss. “Me.” 

“Mmm” Dean hums, not wanting to give up Castiel’s mouth, but needing to know what the hell the angel is talking about. Reluctantly, he pushes Castiel away. "What, I have grace now? How?” he asks, searching for the answer in Castiel’s steady gaze.

“Dean,” Castiel starts, resting his forehead against the hunter’s, and sighs. He looks into bright green eyes, trying to find a way to explain their situation in a way that will make sense to Dean. "It seems that the bond we already shared got stronger during our time in Purgatory. It also seems that the grace that I left with you, when I rebuilt you, has over time bonded with your soul. It is yours now, Dean. It answers to you. However, it still calls out to me.” He leans in to give Dean a small chaste kiss. He pauses to see what effect his words are having and what colors are swirling around Dean. He sees yellow pulsing at his core. Dean’s confused and nervous, scared. Castiel gives him another small peck, wraps his arms around Dean's waist, bringing him closer and continues. “Dean, I never thought this would happen, but that small part of my grace that I left to care for you, has been communicating with me. It has been showing me, constantly now, for quite some time, your feelings, and your moods. Because of it, I know how you feel, because I feel it too." 

"Oh fuck no, Cas!" Dean pulls out of Castiel's hold and gets off the bed. He staggers backwards and rubs his hand across his face. He bends over; taking deep breathes, and starts laughing when he realizes that this revelation isn't freaking him out as much as he thought it would. On the contrary, this suped up bond shit could come in very handy, his wicked mind supplies. "Seriously, dude, you have got to be shitting me." He stands straight and shakes his head. "I mean, I know I've been having some pretty fucking deep feelings for you lately, you know, hoping you kinda felt the same way. But I had no idea you felt EXACTLY the same way." He laughs again walking back towards the bed and kneels between Castiel's open legs. 

As Dean hesitantly lays his hands on each of Castiel's spread thighs, Castiel sees Dean's grace throb between yellow and pink. He's still unsure of me, Castiel thinks. "Dean, it's true that now because of your grace, I know explicitly how you feel. But I've always known. To a lesser extent, perhaps, but I know you, deep down, I know all of you. And if you stop, for just a moment, and sit quietly, and listen carefully, you will realize that you know all of me as well. Our bond, our connection is a two way street my friend."

"Cas, I..." Dean starts to say, glowing all pinks and oranges, but gets cut off by another tender kiss from his angel. "Wait, you sure you're not going along with all of this touchy feely stuff because it's my grace or soul, or shit maybe it's my awesome good looks that are forcing you to?" he asks dubiously.

Castiel laughs at that. A throaty deep laugh that makes the pinks in Dean's grace spin into deep red pinwheels. It delights Castiel, and in turn, Dean as well. 

They're both grinning, and feeling worlds more confident, Castiel resumes his explanation. 

"It’s very simple, Dean, your grace wants to join with me. It wants to be whole again. That is why you feel like you cannot get close enough to me. That is why I am not going anywhere without you. I am not leaving you, now or ever. The pull to be with you is too strong. I cannot fight It.” He holds Dean with his eyes, hoping that the hunter understands and believes the truth of his confession. "I don’t want to fight It." he stresses. "My feelings for you would be the same regardless of our grace's intentions.” he says, gentle but firmly. To further emphasize his point, he crashes his mouth onto the hunter’s, teeth clacking, tongues dueling, kissing him wet and deeply until they're both breathless.

This time, when Castiel looks up, his mouth drops open. The sight of an impossibly huge and bright Aurora Borealis that’s pulsating all around them, is enough to make him, an angel that has existed since before human time began, before this world was formed, and who’s been witness to the birth of solar systems, speechless. It's prism of colors undulating and spiraling all around them, bleeding onto the floor and climbing up the walls. This is Dean at his most wondrous. 

The smile Castiel produces makes him look young and innocent. Dean grins in return, leaning into his angel, and planting a kiss on his forehead. 

“Cas, I had no idea you cared?” Dean teases, and stands to straddle Castiel. 

Castiel takes advantage of their positions. He grabs Dean by his waist and throws him onto the bed, face up. Now straddling the hunter, he leans down to unbutton his shirt. “Dean, you know very well how much I care.” He leans down and forces his tongue into Dean’s already open mouth, kissing the breath out of him. 

The weight of the angel on top of him is too much for Dean. When Castiel grinds his building erection against the hunter’s, Dean gasps loudly. He bucks up trying to find a rhythm that will ease his growing frustration. He yanks at Castiel’s shirt, buttons torn unceremoniously off. He moves to undo the angel’s pants. He tears and pulls, finally yanking them down far enough to be able to get his hand around Castiel’s fully erect cock. The answering moan from Castiel is all the proof Dean needs to start stroking him. 

“Dean, I feel so full of…, so much…” Castiel says in a rough whisper into Dean’s mouth. 

“Cas, dude,... mmmph, don’t talk, ‘kay? Just wanna feel you. Make you feel good, baby.” 

Castiel manages to remove Dean’s henley, jeans and boxers, without breaking their kiss. Friggin showoff, Dean thinks. 

Reveling in the feel of skin on skin, Castiel starts thrusting, slowly at first, against Dean’s cock. Dean moans and grabs onto both his and Castiel’s swollen members. He flicks his thumb over the leaking pre-come, using it to lubricate his fist, and begins stroking them with slow and deliberate twists of his wrist.

“Dean, I.., I can’t, ...I feel…” Cas begs, pressing hot kisses into Dean’s neck.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Just…feel it, let go.” Dean’s amazed his voice comes out even and not broken. Hearing Castiel sound so wrecked and horny is enough to push him over the edge. He feels dizzy, like he’s drowning and the only way to get oxygen is by inhaling Castiel’s kisses and moans. 

It’s still not enough. He pushes Castiel off and flips their positions. Once on top of the angel, Dean, bracing himself on his elbows, gazing into bottomless blue, starts working his way down Castiel’s body, kissing him tenderly on the lips and leaving small bruises on his neck. He then trails long wet stripes down the angel’s muscled torso, pausing long enough to harden each nipple into hard little buds with playful bites. 

He kneads the soft flesh between Castiel’s thighs as he makes his way down to his sharp hipbones. He lingers there, sucking dark marks on each, making a mental note to tattoo ‘property of Dean Winchester’ in between them, even if the angel protests. Mine, he thinks. And that’s that.

“Argh! Dean, please move.” Castiel protests, bucking his hips, urging Dean to continue his journey down to his aching hard-on.

Pushy little fucker, Dean thinks, inhaling deeply the warm soft skin of his angle’s taut belly. He lifts his head to look up at Castiel. He grins; loving how completely disheveled and debauched he’s made the angel look.

“Dean, if you don’t finish what you started, then I will.” Castiel huffs, obviously frustrated. 

“Patience, Cas. Trust me.” he says, giving him his most suggestive wink and smirk. “All good things come to those who wait.” He then leans down, and gives the bulbous head of Castiel’s cock a small kiss.

“Ahh,” Castiel groans as he arches his back and slams his head into the pillow, letting out a litany of Dean, Dean, Dean.

Wow, he reacts that way from barely being touched, Dean marvels, congratulating himself on his skills and wanting nothing more in that moment than to take Castiel’s full length into his mouth. 

Dean dives in, swallowing Castiel down whole, relishing the hot heavy weight of his dick down his throat. His spit mingles with salt and musk, the taste making his head spin. His amped up desire, emitting blazing red sparks, forming a halo of lust around him. He grips Castiel’s cock with his spit slick fist and still sucking at the tip, starts stroking the angel with long lazy swipes of his wrist. 

"Dean...I, I...ahh!!" Castiel stammers, breath hitching and body flushed with heat. 

"Mmm..., come for me baby." Deans gasps, exhaling hot puffs of air against the angel's already over-sensitive head.

A few more clever twists of his wrist and Castiel's hot thick come is spilling into Deans open mouth. He drinks it all down, licking his lips, not wanting to waste one single bitter drop.

Dean sits up, bracketing himself in the vee of Castiel's thighs. He's still gently stroking Castiel's softening dick, fascinated that the angel's cock is as flushed and pink as his plump full lips.

A blissed out Castiel smiles up at him. He grabs Dean and pulls him down, loving the feel of the hunter's heavy swollen cock on his stomach. They rub against each other with the ease of their sweat-slicked chests. Castiel kisses him, gripping Dean by the back of his neck, pushing his tongue in and wrestling Dean's for dominance. 

Dean lifts his hips up and out from between Castiel's legs. "Close your legs." He tells the angel, voice low and husky. He braces himself on his elbows and presses his dick between Castiel's thighs. He begins thrusting. Slowly at first, kissing the angel's swollen lips, biting more bruises onto his neck, nipping at his ears, whispering endearments and promises that he knows he will never break. 

Castiel, delirious with lust, grips Dean's hips with such force that he's sure to leave fingerprint bruises. "Dean, I, I want you to..." He pulls the hunter off, has him get on all fours and still laying under him, scoots lower until he’s directly under Dean's belly. He grabs Dean's hips and takes his hanging cock into his mouth. 

Dean lets out a high-pitched whine. "Cas! Fuck yeah...fucking awesome…fuck, ah, fuck baby...you are...fucking perffffect!" He's barely coherent and can barely think straight as he begins thrusting again, and fucking Castiel's mouth while on all fours. The perfect suction of the angel's mouth and the possessive hold he has on Dean, has Dean spilling into Castiel’s mouth a few moments later. 

Dean’s body clenches from the force of his orgasm. He’s gone supernova. The light spilling from him is so bright that he’s sure, had it not been he that had produced it, would have left him blinded. Dean looks down between his arms at Castiel. He sees that not only does the angel still have his delicious mouth wrapped around his softening dick, but that he is also glowing with a soft inner light, as if he had swallowed a small star. And, perhaps, that’s exactly what’s happened. 

Dean, shaky from his position, collapses on top of Castiel. Castiel wriggles out from under the hunter’s heavy bulk, and into a more comfortable position next to him. He lays his hand on Dean’s cheek, caressing it, running his nails against the grain of his stubble, and leans in for a kiss. 

Dean, surrendering himself to the post sex cuddling, grabs Castiel by the waist, pulling him closer, tangling their legs, and turning their tender kiss into a deeper more passionate one. He’s insatiable. The grace coursing through his system, making it impossible for him to stop touching, tasting, inhaling the angel. He rolls on top of Castiel, looking down at his brilliant blue eyes, amazed at how they light up the room with their glowing light. 

“So, what colors do you see now, Cas? Hm?” He whispers into the angel’s ear, licking and biting the length of his neck. 

Castiel closes his eyes as Dean nuzzles his neck, but opens them at Dean's question. He gasps, awestruck. His brow creases as he focuses, concentrating, wanting to describe to Dean with the right words exactly what it is that he's witnessing. 

"Constellations, Dean. I see stars." He gasps, as his eyes fill with tears. He lets out a shaky breath and continues, "I've been witness to the birth of countless solar systems, Dean. But, never have I witnessed the actual unraveling and merging of the planets." His voice a husky rasp, waivers, and adds, "Dean Winchester, you are the most wondrous thing I have ever seen. Truly, my father chose correctly, when he declared you the chosen one. And even though we have been through many difficult trails because of him, I must still thank him for giving me, you. And…” Castiel lowers his eyes, the dark fan of his eyelashes brushing prettily against his cheeks, sighing before continuing, “I also want to thank you, Dean.” His eyes find Dean’s again, gazing softly but intensely, with a fond smile on his face and cards his fingers through his lover’s sex mussed hair. 

Dean gapes. He’s stunned, at a loss for words. Really, what could he say to Castiel's revelation? He swallows deeply before replying. "Cas, why are you thanking me? Dude, I should be thanking you. I mean, the reason you can see any of my swirly colors or whatever, is because you put your grace inside of me in the first place, when you...when you saved me." He pauses, waiting to see his angel’s reaction to his admission. "Baby, it's me and your dad that should thank you. Not the other way around." He realizes and acknowledges the truth of his words as he leans down to kiss away the tears falling from Castiel's glowing eyes. They're warm and salty, slightly sweet. They make Dean's chest feel heavy and his heartbeat throb loudly in his ears. 

Dean rubs his thumb across Castiel's cheek smoothing away the wetness. "You okay there, Cas? You look a little flushed." He says, smiling softly.

Castiel hasn't blinked. He can't. He's entranced by his lover. Instead of Dean’s emotions ebbing, they seem to be escalating. The stars and solar systems detonating, corkscrewing and spinning, alighting on all of their motel room's surfaces, have effectively left him speechless. 

"Cas, you there, man? Come on, your freaking me out a little bit here." Dean says, lightly tapping his angel's cheek with his fingers. He tilts his head down again, leaving a trail of small wet kisses from Castiel's temple to his still damp cheeks, biting at the sharp edge of the angel's jaw, and sucking a mark on his neck. Dean finally pauses at his angel's collarbone, nipping and lapping towards Castiel's hitching clavicle, as he shifts his body back on top.

Dean's insistent heated kisses and the solid heavy weight of his body, finally snap Castiel's attention back to the moment. "Dean." He whimpers, wrapping his arms around the hunter's waist, spreading his legs further apart, grinding their come-sticky hips together. The delicious friction this produces has them both moaning in unison. Castiel cocks his head down, capturing Dean's mouth in a kiss, inserting his tongue, swiping, tasting and swallowing Dean’s hums of pleasure. The kiss is wet and sloppy and they don't break apart until they're both breathless. Or, at least, until Dean is breathless. 

"Jesus, Cas. Need a sec here. Grace or no, I need air." Dean gasps. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really glad you like having your tongue deep down my throat as much as I like having mine down yours. But human here, not angel with super-no-need-for-oxygen powers." He smiles at the angel’s pout, and unable to resist, kisses him back, pulling on his tongue and sucking on it, making loud slurping obscene sounds as he does so.

"Mmph, Dean.” Castiel purrs, and pulls back. “My apologies. I forget myself, especially when it comes to you.” He looks around the room that’s now completely dark except for the Dean. He’s glowing; a pale blue light pulses from his eyes, ears, mouth, and fingertips. He’s going supernova, Castiel realizes. Dean’s feelings must have reached their zenith. He’s sure some huge emotion must be at his core. He feels scared, but not in a bad way. His heart is beating too hard and too fast, like the wings from a caged bird trying to break free from his chest. He feels his stomach flip pleasantly. He’s hot, but chilled from the light sheen of sweat coating his body. 

“Dean, what is it?” He implores. He takes Dean’s face in both hands and searches his eyes. “I feel scared, Dean. And, my, my stomach hurts. Why?” He asks brow creased with worry.

With his angel looking so worried and adorable, Dean chuckles and leans in to give him a quick peck on the lips. Just when did he start thinking of men as adorable, he wonders. Well, not men, just Cas, and that’s okay by him. “Dude, sorry, I forgot we’re sharing my feelings now.” God my life is so weird, he realizes. He rubs soothing circles around Castiel’s back, and leans in, again, to give him a deeper kiss. “Don’t be so scared, okay, baby. Everything’s alright.” He shushes. 

“No Dean.” Castiel insists. “I can see and feel that you too are scared. What is it Dean? Please, I can help. Whatever it is, I can help you fight it.” Castiel is pleading, practically begging. But Dean doesn’t want to fight it. He knows that the fear he feels, is something that he wants to embrace, not repel. 

“Cas.” He whispers against the angel’s neck. His heated breath making Castiel pull and tighten his hold around his waist. 

“Mmm…Dean” Castiel purr-growls into his ear, kneading the firm muscles of the hunter’s ass-cheeks. “Please, tell me. I can feel you, but it’s confusing. I want to help. Please help me understand.”

Dean moans and snaps his hips against Castiel’s, slowly rutting against the angel’s hardening cock. “I don’t want to fight what I’m feeling right now, Cas. I…I want to feel this. I want us both to feel this. Do you understand?” He lifts his upper body off-of the angel’s, bracing himself with his hands. He holds Castiel down with his piercing gaze, urging him to understand what his feelings are desperately trying to communicate. 

The pale blue pulsar trying to burst from Dean has morphed into a blinding gold. If he didn’t know any better, Castiel would think he was gazing upon the face of the most powerful of archangels. More powerful than Lucifer, than Michael. He is a god. It’s an epiphany, not blasphemy. Dean is his god. Finally, he understands. 

“I love you too, Dean. I always have.” 

Dean chokes back a sob and engulfed in the light of a thousand suns. He lets himself drop down, fully covering Castiel’s quaking form, and proceeds to kiss him, pouring all of his want, and desire, and love, into the angel, his angel, with his mouth and body.

They begin to rut in earnest, rubbing and grinding their cocks, snapping and arching their hips. 

“Cas…” Dean gasps, reaching between them to grab both their members in his fist. He begins stroking their dicks, the pace fast and relentless. His need for release, almost painful, but, it’s sweet agony. 

Castiel is beyond words, or at least any Dean can understand. His angel is muttering a litany of incoherent sounds and words that, although unintelligible, Dean is sure are all laced with love and devotion.

Dean’s close, and now it’s his turn to be in tune with Castiel. He knows that the moment he reaches his climax, Castiel will too. 

Dean looks down between their hips, hypnotized by the vision of their iron hard cocks as they slip smoothly in and out between his fist. He groans as Castiel’s hand joins his. He knows he won’t last much longer looking at the lustful sight. He looks back up at Castiel, wanting to look into his eyes when he comes, and bites down painfully on his bottom lip at what he sees. The angel’s eyes, dark with want, flushed cheeks, kiss bruised lips, hair crazy and pointing in every direction, is so fucking hot, so wreaked, that before Dean’s brain can catch up with his body, he’s coming. 

Castiel’s climax, when Dean looks into his eyes, is like a punch in the gut. His body shudders uncontrollably. Thick ropes of his semen shooting and mingling with Dean’s. He’s breathless and momentarily blinded by the light that erupted from Dean and deafened by the sonic boom that accompanied their orgasm.

“Dean…” He wants to speak, wants to know if Dean is still feeling the same way as he. But, he can’t. He’s spent. He takes deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart, while enjoying and basking in the warm faint glow of light radiating from his lover.

“Cas.” Dean manages, gasping for air. He swallows thickly, and murmurs, “So glad you get me, Cas. So happy. I’m fucking relieved, that we, ah,…that you, know how I feel.” He says shyly. He nuzzles his head in between Castiel’s neck and shoulder, breathing him in deeply, and grinning contentedly. “Love you.” Dean mouths against the angel’s pulse point. With renewed fire coursing through him at the admitted confession, Dean proceeds to suck a dark bruise there for all to see.

Castiel arches his back and grips Dean tightly, with refreshed fervor. He lets out a sharp intake of breath and begins moaning loudly, with abandon, wrapping and trapping Dean with his legs. 

“Oh my god!” Sam yelps, slamming the motel room door behind him, making a hasty retreat.

Dean doesn’t move. On the contrary, he pins the angel down with his body, not letting him wriggle free. “D’you hear something?” He asks Castiel, smirking, not taking his eyes away from the angel’s glowing blue orbs. 

Castiel, now completely in tune with all of the hunters nuanced questions, and feelings, answers, “No, Dean. I don’t believe I heard anything, you?” he smiles.

“Nada, baby. Not a thing.” Dean replies, grinning as he peppers the angel’s face, neck, chest, any part of his body he can reach, with small bites and kisses. 

“Guys, can I come in now? You dressed yet?” Sam asks from behind the door. “Guys, it’s cold you know. I wanna come in. Guys?”

“Sammy, at your own risk, dude, at your own risk.” Dean threatens laughing softly against his angel’s parted lips. 

“Aww, come on Dean. Seriously, you’ve been in there for hours. I’m not kidding, man.” He bangs on the door one more time. “Fine, I’m getting my own room. Good night ladies.” He huffs off towards the check-in desk, feeling more than a little pleased with himself.


End file.
